


Like a Southbound Train

by outlier



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Americana, Country Music, F/F, kalex week 2018, not foster sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-07-27 23:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16229540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlier/pseuds/outlier
Summary: Alex's career is already in a bit of a tailspin when she says some not especially nice things about country music's rising star.





	Like a Southbound Train

**Author's Note:**

> For Kalex Week 2018, prompt - Space travel / Road trips / Vacations. (It's really more of a pre-road trip.)
> 
> The band plays a couple of covers. [Windfall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNTQ2DuJKtU) by Son Volt and the Darius Rucker interpretation of [Wagon Wheel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hvKyBcCDOB4). It alludes to a song from Alex's discography. I'm imagining it in the style of [Heartbreak Town](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXn55CG34MY) by the Dixie Chicks.

In Alex’s defense, she’d been drunk at the time. She’d been drunk a lot of the time, actually, and actively engaging in self-destruction, so of course it’d made sense to shit talk country music’s rising golden girl.

“Oh, you mean country music’s Sunshine Girl,” she’d scoffed to the reporter, already the angry and bitter level of drunk that was usually the purview of alcoholics who sat at the ends of bars, scowling and melancholy and with a bar tab as long as their arm. “Come on. She’s a pretty blonde girl who spends most of her time in short skirts and knee high boots. That’s all she needs right there. She doesn’t even have to be any good.”

Regret came days later, after she sobered up.

“So this is how you decide to polish an already damaged reputation?” Her manager, Lucy Lane, had opened all of the hotel room’s curtains and tossed the tablet on her bed.

Alex had blinked away from the blinding light, sore all over and with a headache to match, and pulled a pillow over her face.

“It’s not exactly the kind of trending story we need.”

And there it’d been, trending story number 1 on Rolling Stone’s online country music page. _Out singer-songwriter Alex Danvers slams Kara Zorel, “Just a pretty blonde”_

She’d clicked on the link, a little bit numb, and not sure she wanted to see just how much worse it could get. There, under a picture split in half – Kara Zorel on one side in a field of wildflowers, banjo in hand, and her on the other, sweaty under the stage lights and with a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels outstretched to the crowd – she’d found out just how much worse worse could get.

_Alex Danvers slams county music’s Sunshine Girl, Kara Zorel, says, “She’s a pretty blonde girl who spends most of her time in short skirts and knee high boots. She doesn’t even have to be any good.”_

_\--By Leslie Willis_

_It’s not the nicest bar in town, but Alex Danvers doesn’t seem to care much for cordiality, much less ambiance. “Another,” she tells the bar keep, and moments later, a double whiskey appears on the bar. It’s her fourth of the night, at least as best as she can remember. No longer the fresh-faced country music prodigy, this is an Alex Danvers staggering out of the wreckage of a string of failures, both professional and personal._

_“Who are you?” she asks, and I introduce myself for the third time._

_It’s the story of a trailblazer turned out-of-control inferno. The troubles started for Danvers two and a half years ago when she was caught romancing a member of her security team, Maggie Sawyer, an ex-cop from Gotham City. Danvers, not yet out, didn’t help matters when she initially refused to confirm or deny the affair, prompting more liberal fans to decry her as self-loathing and more conservative fans to exit stage right to mutters of being ‘…tired of having this kind of thing shoved in our face.’_

_And now she has thoughts on the freshest new face in country music. She polishes off the double whiskey, tries to order another, and rolls her eyes at the song playing on the jukebox, Kara Zorel’s ‘No Time Like the Last Time’, a haunting ballad about loss some say is drawn from a personal childhood tragedy that saw her orphaned at age 13._

_“Not your taste?” I ask, and Danvers unloads with both barrels._

_“Come on,” she says, deriding the musician affectionately called the Sunshine Girl by her fans. “She’s a pretty blonde girl who spends most of her time in short skirts and knee high boots. That’s all she needs right there. She doesn’t even have to be any good.”_

_From there, the well opens. “I’ve seen her with her banjo,” Danvers says, motioning again for the bartender. Rumor has it she’s been hitting the bottle steadily and often since her split with Sawyer, and some fans claim that her concerts have suffered as a result. Industry insiders say Danvers’ has been a creative black hole since the break-up. “You can’t build a legacy on cute.”_

_Danvers should know. Since taking the Americana scene by storm as a 19 year old, Alex Danvers has done everything she could to prove she was more than a pixie-cute flash in the pan. “I write my own stuff,” she tells me, whiskey slopping over the side of her freshly refilled glass as she slams it down on the bar. “Always have.”_

_So does Zorel._

_She staggers to her feet and eyes the door. “The Chicks were right. Country music is a long time gone. Nothing there anymore but pablum and pretty faces.”_

_Zorel’s representatives seem ready to turn the other cheek. “Kara Zorel is a long-time fan of Alex Danvers,” said her camp when asked for a comment. “This isn’t going to change that, and it’s not going to change the music and joy Kara Zorel and Crew brings to their fans. We wish Alex Danvers all the best.”_

She’d reached out. She’d offered apologies, and she meant them. She actually thought Kara Zorel was talented. Even more, she liked her music, and even if she hadn’t, she hadn’t wanted to join the parade of women tearing other women down. And true, she’d said all of those things, but only the one quote, bad as it’d been, had been about Kara Zorel specifically. The rest had been twisted, taken out of context, and reformed, but Alex should have known better. She’d dealt with reporters before. If it came out of her mouth, they could use it however they wanted.

In the end, maybe it’d been for the best. The press hounded her and Kara Zorel stayed angel sweet and Alex took a look at her reflection and made the decision to change.

 _Danvers in rehab_ trended a month later, followed by a period of blissful media silence.

\------

“Say that again.”

Lucy ignored her, moving straight to the hard sell. “You need this, Alex. We need this. All they’re asking for is three songs. Five tops.”

“She wants me?”

“Not even exclusively her stuff. Some classics. Some covers. They’re going to send over studio versions of the tracks they want you on. I have the sheet music. You’ve got two weeks. We can make this happen.”

She hadn’t heard anything from Kara Zorel or her people since the disastrous piece had hit. She’d apologized on Twitter to the excoriations of thousands. She’d apologized in every interview she’d had since to the sound of crickets, before and after rehab. She’d even gotten Lucy to arrange a card and flowers.

Nothing, and then, this.

“It’s her first show back on US soil,” Lucy repeated, as if Alex needed to be reminded of the enormity of what had been offered.

Alex blinked, sure she was in some kind of shock. “At the Ryman.”

“ _Recorded_.”

“And she wants me?”

“Alex, this is the literal definition of a gift horse. I don’t know why she’s doing it. Doesn’t matter. You’re going to say yes and you’re going to do it with fucking bells on and you’re going to play along with whatever kind of PR she’s planning because this is a rising tide and it’s going to lift our boats.” Lucy looked at her suspiciously, as if sure Alex was going to manage to ruin this somehow. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“How am I supposed to get ready to play with a band I’ve never even seen in person?”

“You’ve seen them in person.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “At award shows.”

“You’ve been doing this for most of your life.” Lucy leveled her with a look, and Alex bit back her next protest. “Learn to play the songs you don’t already know. Practice singing along to the tracks they sent. Act like you’re a professional musician.”

“I want to do this.” She looked at Lucy imploringly, trying to convey the sense of panicked confusion that was keeping this from feeling like a surmountable task. “But Lucy, I want to do it right.”

“First things first, we say yes, right? We say yes?”

“I mean, yes. Of course. Even if all she wants to do is bring me up on stage and humiliate me, it’s still a yes.”

Alex had been headlining her own shows for years, but if Kara Zorel wanted her onstage as a fill-in guitarist or back-up singer or even just there to hold her microphone, she was going to do it. She’d do it, and she’d apologize in person, and maybe she’d feel a little less shitty about herself.

\------

“So she’s not going to get here until showtime?”

Jonn Jonz, Kara’s manager, was perhaps the most unflappable person she’d met since she’d become a full-fledged part of the industry. His star was waiting on a tarmac 900 miles away, fresh off a round of morning show publicity, and waiting for the weather to clear. If it did, she’d make it to the Auditorium in time to walk on stage, and if she didn’t, the opening act was going to have to find a few more songs to play.

“We’ll have you warm up with the band,” Jonn said, eyes tracking the bustle of the road crew behind her.

Right. The band. Winn Schott on the violin, who hated her. Jimmy Olsen on the bass, who hated her. Eve Teschmacher on the drums, who hated her. Megan Morz on piano, who hated her. Imra Ardeen on guitar, who both hated her and who had to give up a few featured parts to make room for Alex’s supporting appearance.

“Look,” she said half an hour later, surrounded by the lot of them, “I can’t apologize enough. I actually think you guys are great, and Kara’s great. All of you are really talented and making good music, and there’s no excuse so I’m not going to make one. I’m sorry.”

“We know.” Megan’s voice was flat and her arms were crossed across her chest, expression not entirely forgiving. “We got your flowers.”

“Which, trite, by the way,” offered Winn, who seemed fairly sure of himself until Alex looked in his direction.

Jimmy Olsen grinned. “Come on, guys. Kara’s forgiven her, so we should too. After all, it’s not like it was our sales that tanked.”

Alex rubbed at her forehead. “I deserve all of this. Let’s get it all out now, because I want tonight to go well.”

“You mean you need it to go well.” Megan again, and it was the truth, even if it hurt. Alex’s career trajectory, which had been on a slow and steady decline the further she spiraled into her personal problems, had entered precipitous after the trainwreck of an article came out. “I don’t even know why she’s doing this.”

Imra looked at her wryly. “Yes you do.”

“Okay, fine. I don’t want to know why, even if I already do.”

“Let’s just do the set.” All eyes swung to Eve, who looked unruffled. “We can keep arguing about this or we could run through it and make sure she’s not going to screw it up.”

So, no pressure, Alex thought.

It’d been a while since she’d been on stage. The article had gone up after a one-off appearance at a festival, and before that, she’d been off the road for over three months. Half of that time had been spent curled up on her couch, contemplating life and what it meant to have achieved her dreams yet still feel so hollow.

The feel of it all was familiar – anticipation, nerves, the comforting clank of things being assembled, and the disembodied voice of the sound tech working through his routine. Her guitar strap sat a little uncomfortably against the side of her neck and she ran her hand under it, wondering when the bite of it had grown unfamiliar.

“Windfall,” Megan called out, naming one of the covers she’d been told to prepare for. “On my count.”

It was up to her to pick out the opening strains, and even though she knew and had practiced the song countless times in the past week, it was still a relief to do so without faltering. When she’d been approached about joining the tour for a night, she’d been given exacting instructions. In the past, she might have resented it. Instead, it’d felt like redemption, the implied trust that she could carry the responsibility laid upon her.

The third verse was hers, and the sound of her voice echoing around the mostly empty auditorium seemed new, somehow. The song ended and she hadn’t missed a note, and when Megan backed her up on the chorus, it sounded like they’d been singing together for years. They finished up the songs she was playing with them, and no one said anything good after, but they didn’t say anything bad either.

“Run it through a few more times.” Jonn’s voice came from over the PA system, so measured and calm that she couldn’t figure out how any of the band members could argue with him. Ever.

So they ran it through a few more times, and later, in the privacy of the small dressing room they’d allotted her, Alex pretended like she didn’t have to wipe away a tear when she thought about how good it felt to be doing something that felt right again.

\------

Kara Zorel was _electric_. Word had come down that she was in the building only a half hour before she was scheduled to be on stage, but if Alex had been in the audience, she would never have known that an hour earlier Kara had been climbing off a jet and into a waiting Towncar. She walked onstage as if welcoming everyone to the small gathering she’d pulled together – barefoot and wearing ragged jeans torn at the knees and a plaid shirt over a low cut v-neck – and nothing like the Kara Zorel she was used to seeing in glossy magazine photos. She’d always photographed well, with her 1,000 watt smile, but the pivot away from knee-high leather boots and her trademark short skirt left Alex feeling like she was getting a glimpse of the Kara Zorel who was only free to be herself behind closed doors.

If the roar that filled the Auditorium was any guide, the audience was enraptured.

They’d told Alex to come in her trademark style and so she had, in a black muscle tee and tight black jeans, with her undercut freshly barbered. She felt underdressed in comparison, though how she could be underdressed when Kara was barefoot didn’t make for the kind of logic that stood up to scrutiny.

She watched from the wings, capable of admitting she was a little jealous. Kara had an ease with the fans that Alex had never been able to master. The band opened with their latest hit to the sound of the jammed Auditorium singing along in sync. Alex sang along too, low and under her breath, the tap of her fingers keeping rhythm against her thigh. Toward the end of the first half of the set, she was sure Kara caught her. Convinced, really, by the twinkle in her eyes, but she didn’t hide away, no matter how much she wanted to.

“We’ll be back in a few,” Kara said, waving to her fans as the band unfolded itself, laying down instruments and moving off-stage in the slightly stiff way that came with a rush of adrenalin put on pause. “And we’re bringing surprises.”

Kara loped in her direction, and Alex discovered a desire to flee.

“Hey,” she said. Even without shoes she was a little taller, which Alex hadn’t expected. “I’m glad you could make it.”

She said it like Alex was doing her a favor, when they both knew that wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not quite sure it was the time or place but not able to move forward without it. “I—”

Kara cut in, smiling her unfairly beautiful smile. “I know. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I do,” Alex stressed. “The things I said were awful, and they weren’t true. You’re incredibly talented, and you didn’t deserve to have some washed-up drunk mouth off about you.”

“Then come by my dressing room after the show.” Kara looked off over her shoulder and nodded, undoubtedly being called upon by someone desperate for her input over the short break. “You can tell me you’re sorry then if you still think you have to.”

The twenty minute intermission passed quickly. Alex tried to fade into the background, watching the rhythms of an unfamiliar but well-oiled show. A crew member moved her guitar on stage, a Breedlove concert acoustic that looked almost out of place beside Kara’s well-worn, old-fashioned, five string banjo.

“So I’ll give you an intro after we do the first song,” Kara said, appearing beside her for a moment as the house lights fell, callused fingers light against Alex’s bicep to catch her attention.

Alex nodded, feeling the tension begin to gather in her chest. She’d be no good if she let it, she knew, so she took a deep breath, and then another, and before she knew it, the song was over and Kara was sneaking glances in her direction.

“I’ve asked a special guest to join me tonight,” she said, banjo slung over to rest against her side. “We all go through rough times, but someone happened to write an article about one of hers. The press tried to build it up into a feud, but the truth is that she apologized and I accepted, and now I’m thrilled to have her here with me tonight. Alex Danvers, everybody.”

There was a noticeable lull in the crowd noise as Alex strode onto the stage and shrugged into her guitar strap. The applause came late and when it came it was hesitant, but she hadn’t been expecting anything else. She was an enemy playing to a home crowd, and the best she could hope was that their affection for Kara would keep her from getting booed off the stage.

In the distance, she heard Eve counting off the lead to her first song on the shared stage. Instinct took over and her fingers began to move, tripping over the first few notes of _Windfall_ , and a few bars later, the only thing that seemed to matter was Kara’s voice painting over the song’s classic tones and making it hers.

And then she was stepping up to the mic, singing in front of a crowd for the first time in nearly a year. “ _Switching it over to AM_ …”

\------

By her third song on-stage, the crowd had either forgotten it hated her so much or it’d mostly forgotten about her altogether, because the applause was just as loud as it had been at the start of the night. They played a couple of Kara’s songs, Alex disappearing into weft of the music and adding her voice to the chorus, but it wasn’t until the fourth and final of the songs she’d been invited to join that they came together as equals.

“We’re going to play something a little fun. Take us away, Alex.”

She did, picking out the opening notes of _Wagon Wheel_ , and Kara came in on the banjo followed by Winn on the violin, and it was the most Alex had enjoyed playing music in longer than she could remember. She took lead vocals on the first verse – _Heading down south to the land of the pines_ – Kara coming in to back her up as they rolled into the chorus, and it was amazing what difference a little joy could make. Her guitar played sweeter and her chest felt like an endless, open cavern that could never be silenced.

Winn sawed through the bridge with the kind of old-time twang that picked at something deep within Alex and brought to mind images of sparks flying off of campfires on cold mountain nights, and she grinned over at him. He grinned back – maybe out of reflex, maybe not – and Kara danced over close to her, standing nearly shoulder to shoulder as she took over the second verse, and she’d forgotten what it’d been like, to perform like this, happy and free.

Then, the world shifted. It started with the look Kara gave her, sly as the undertone in her voice as she sang _My baby plays a guitar, I pick a banjo now_ , highlighting it with a playful flourish on her own banjo as she bumped their hips together. It picked up as she came to stand behind Alex for the chorus. She’d never considered the words before – _Rock me momma like a wagon wheel, Rock me momma any way you feel_ – or what it might feel like to have a pretty girl singing them from just by her ear. They weren’t even sexy. Not really, not with the upbeat cadence of the song. Anyway, she didn’t think she could take any girl seriously, no matter how pretty, if she called her _momma_ , but Kara sang them in a way that put desire into them. She sang them in a way that made Alex hyperaware of Kara standing behind her, tall enough that her chin cleared Alex’s shoulder as she sang from right beside her, and close enough that Alex could feel the heat of her.

If she’d had the time to breathe a sigh of relief, she would have when the bridge came and Kara moved away to stand by Winn as he stepped hard into it. It gave her a chance to shine as well, taking up the latter half of it, and she was so wrapped up in the intricate fretwork that she didn’t notice that Kara had moved back beside her until she looked up, the next words on her lips.

 _Walkin' to the south out of Roanoke…_ She carried on until the crowd joined in with a shout a few lines later – _Johnson City, Tennessee_ – drawing out the last syllable in the background as Kara took over. And Alex expected her to change the words, but instead she found herself staring into Kara’s eyes as she sang them without modification, _I hear my baby calling my name and I know that she's the only one_ , and it was, well… Kara was singing the chorus again, singing it like she was singing it to _her_ , with her eyes tracing along Alex from her boots up, and Alex made it through the rest of song only because she’d practiced it a hundred times in the weeks since Kara’s people had reached out to her to see if she’d join them in Nashville.

She had to be imagining things. There was no way Kara Zorel was flirting with her. It was Midwestern friendliness. That’s all.

“Alex Danvers, everybody,” Kara said, wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulders in an unexpected side hug. “She thinks she’s finished, but we’ve got one more surprise. This is one of my favorite songs of all time, and I’m hoping she’ll join me in singing it.”

Alex recognized it immediately, not three counts into Kara singing acapella to a suddenly hushed crowd. The song was one of _her_ old ones. It’d never received much attention and certainly no airtime, maybe because it’d been a little too raw and unvarnished for popular consumption. It’d stuck with her through the years, though. It was one of her favorites, though she never admitted to it in the fluff pieces Lucy had bullied her into participating in too many times to count.

“The fans love this kind of stuff,” she’d say, shoving a phone into Alex’s hand. Some time later a piece would appear on the internet somewhere, tinged with just enough truth to sate curiosity. This song, though, she’d always held close to the vest.

After the first verse the rest of the band started to play, softly at first. Imra rejoined from off-stage, guitar already in hand, and Alex realized they must have practiced this. Kara, who’d stepped away, reached out to Alex. Before she could second guess herself, she took Kara’s hand and let herself be pulled in close. When she joined in on the chorus, Kara turned to her, eyes alight with glee.

They sounded _good_ together.

Alex left the stage to the sound of applause, shaky and weak-kneed and more than a little confused.

\------

She didn’t even watch the rest of the concert. She retreated to her tiny dressing room, pulled out her phone, and obsessively searched every inch of the internet she could find to see if there was something, anything, that might hint that Kara Zorel was queer. A fleeting thought, that Lucy might know and that she should call her, was quickly quashed. Lucy would never let her hear the end of it, and Alex would have to sit there and take it while Lucy laughed about the time she thought Kara Zorel might be flirting with her, on stage and in front of thousands.

She found nothing, if she didn’t count the reams of gossip about how Kara was dating some guy who somehow ended up marrying Imra(!) not even six months after the first reports of their break-up. So, no. Kara was straight, and was great at working the crowd, and was possibly pandering a little bit to the modest but enthusiastic number of lesbians and bisexual women who liked to tweet things at her and scream in all caps joy when she replied.

Alex wasn’t infatuated, because she didn’t allow herself to become infatuated with straight girls. That was a path to nowhere, and she wasn’t new enough that she hadn’t learned that lesson. She was just a little star-struck because it’d been a while since she’d met someone with the charisma of Kara Zorel. That was all.

She waited longer than she should have to search out Kara’s dressing room.

“Come in,” she heard, from the other side of the thick, clunky door.

Kara was sitting in a folding chair, methodically wiping away her stage make-up. She’d put on shoes and buttoned up her flannel. After 90 minutes under the lights, her hair was a little flatter than it had been at the start. Nearly free of make-up, she was still gorgeous, but Alex could see the tell-tale signs that she was tired after the long day.

“Sit,” Kara said, tilting her head in the direction of another chair.

Alex pulled it close. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.” She traced her thumb down the side-seam of her jeans, and forced herself to meet Kara’s eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said. It was wrong and not even true, and you didn’t deserve the headache of having to deal with it.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” Kara smiled at her, and they weren’t on stage and the lights weren’t blinding, but it was still as dazzling as it’d been then. “I told you right after it happened that you were forgiven. I’m not going to take it back.”

Alex blinked. “You did?” she asked, voice strangled.

“Yeah, or, well, your manager.” The look that stole over Kara’s face was part amused, part exasperated. “Didn’t she tell you?”

“She, uh… no. She didn’t.”

“Is that why you won’t stop saying you’re sorry?”

Alex rubbed tiredly at her forehead and made the decision to put off making plans to kill Lucy until the conversation was finished. “I meant it, every time, so I hope that counts for something.”

“It counts for a lot.” Kara leaned forward and let her hand rest against Alex’s knee. “I think you weren’t in a good place then, but I hope you are now.”

Even though she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to continue to function with Kara’s hand hot against her knee, Alex nodded. “I am. It was one of the things that pushed me into getting help. And it’s not an excuse, but most of what that article said I said wasn’t about you at all. It was me being bitter and feeling sorry for myself. What I said was horrible enough, but I don’t want you to think there was ever a time I sat around and, I don’t know, said all those things about you.”

Kara squeezed her knee supportively, and Alex forgot to exhale.

“Just so you know, Leslie Willis hates me. It probably gave her more joy than you could imagine to write that article.”

Alex was dumbfounded. “What? How could anybody hate you?”

“I guess some people think I’m just a pretty blonde girl in a short skirt and knee high boots.”

“Yeah.” Alex bit down hard on her bottom lip. “Ouch.”

Kara’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s a good thing we’re past that now.”

“Speaking of—” Alex steeled herself— “why did you ask me to go on stage with you tonight?”

“Publicity, or at least that’s what I told Jonn when I asked him to reach out.” Kara ducked her head and blushed, and Alex had to remind herself that it wasn’t adorable. “But the truth is that I’ve been a fan of yours since the beginning and after all of those apologies, I thought you might feel too guilty to say no.”

“That’s… that’s…”

“I hope you’re not mad.” The air between them shifted subtly. Kara pulled her hand back into her own lap and looked over Alex’s shoulder, eyes unfocused. “You helped me find my way after my parents died. I don’t know what you know about me, but I lost them when I was 13. I went to live with the adoptive family of a distant cousin, and they were nice, but Clark had come first and he always would. I can’t blame them. It had to be hard to take in an angry teenager who’d lost everything.” She shook her head, as if pulling herself back into the present. “They loved me, but I was trying to figure out a new city and a new family and how to handle my own grief. I didn’t make friends easily, but your first song came on the radio one day and I felt like you knew me.”

She shrugged clumsily. “So anyway, Uncle Jonathan had an old banjo that he hadn’t played in years. I asked him if I could have it and here I am.”

Alex groaned. “Now I feel even worse.”

“You shouldn’t. Being on stage with you is something I used to daydream about when I was on the register at the grocery store.” A blush settled high on her cheeks. “I passed a lot of time like that, daydreaming about you.”

As soon as she said it, Kara froze and looked like she’d do anything to take the words back, and Alex could only stare, a little shocked and a lot confused.

The only thing she could think to do to ease the sudden tension between them was to offer a confession of her own.

“I’d forgotten how much I love performing,” she said, drawn inexorably closer by the way Kara was looking at her, “but you reminded me tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve been as happy as I was up there with you.”

Kara’s blush deepened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They both jumped at the sharp rap on the door, startled out of the bubble that had descended on them. “Kara, the bus is ready to leave, but the Towncar’s still here.”

Kara was on her feet in a second, cracking the door open just wide enough so that she could peek her head out. “Okay. I’ll take the car. You guys go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” It was Winn Schott. “We can wait.”

“No. Go.” She reached through the crack and gave him a playful shove. “I’m going to finish up a few things here and then I’ll head out too.”

“A few things? Is that what we’re calling…”

Kara slammed the door in his face.

“I should go.” Alex stood and shoved her hands in her pockets, not quite sure what to do with herself in light of their shared secrets.

“No!” With a few long steps, Kara was in front of her, as jittery and out of sorts as Alex felt.

“I’m sure you’re tired—” she plowed on, because she was losing her grip on that _not_ _infatuated_ thing— “and…”

A second later, she was being kissed.

“ _Oh_ ,” she said faintly when Kara pulled back, because there was a warm hand against her cheek and Kara’s lips had been so soft, and she honestly hadn’t expected it.

Kara looked like she was breathless. “I couldn’t let you go without taking the chance.”

Alex decided it was a worthy sentiment and adopted it. She surged into Kara, going up on her tip-toes and wrapping a hand around the back of her neck to tug her down into kissing range. It was soft and just a little nervous, and Kara pulled away just when Alex was going to try to deepen it. She ducked her chin shyly and pushed her hair back behind her ears and Alex replaced _not infatuated_ with _smitten_.

“Come back to the hotel with me.” Kara’s eyes flashed up to meet hers, suddenly panicked. “To talk! Just to talk.”

So Alex took her second chance of the night.

\------

She stood at the windows, looking out over the Nashville skyline. Kara had left her there with a shy smile, promising she’d be back _in 15 minutes, I swear, Alex_ , before ducking into the shower to wash away the grime of the day. Fifteen minutes became more like twenty-five, but Alex didn’t mind.

She’d ridden back from the Auditorium in the back of a Towncar with tinted windows. At some point, Kara had loosely twined their ring and pinky fingers together on the seat between them, and Alex had blushed and smiled like a schoolgirl in the car’s dim interior, glad no one could see her.

“I’m glad you’re still here.” Kara stepped out of the suite’s bedroom. Her hair was wet and a little messy, like she hadn’t bothered to smooth it down after she’d pulled on the tee shirt she was wearing. It was old and faded, a crow in descent on the trail of prey, with the words Smallville High barely readable above it. Alex couldn’t imagine ever feeling comfortable enough with someone she’d just met to be so confidently casual, like they were friends from way back who could be trusted to see all the little truths that made themselves known when you didn’t take the care to hide them. “I wasn’t sure if you’d stay.”

Not far away, Alex had a room of her own. She could have slipped out, away, and secreted herself back into the mostly comfortable burrow of her life, and not have had to deal with the nervous uncertainty of figuring out how to talk to this girl who’d just kissed her.

“Are you hungry?” Kara was moving and speaking too quickly, as if someone had put her on a setting of one and a half times normal speed, already with the room’s phone in her hand before Alex could answer the question. “I’m hungry. I’m going to order food, okay?”

She listened as Kara rattled off what had to be half of the room service menu.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked, and when Alex flinched involuntarily, turned back to the phone. “Water. We just want water. That’s all.”

When she hung up the phone, she looked a little mournful. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t.” When mournful didn’t change, she added, “I promise."

Kara smoothed her hair back nervously, lips moving like she was going to speak but losing momentum at the last, until she finally huffed and shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I didn’t think I’d get this far. I don’t know what comes next.”

“That’s okay,” Alex said softly. “Neither do I.”

\------

She coaxed Kara into a story about the crow, which seemed like an unusually macabre mascot for a high school in Kansas. She turned out to be a genuine farmgirl, or at least she was for the time she’d spent with the Kents. “I’ve fed goats, Alex,” she said, serious in the face of Alex’s wide, delighted grin, “and they will eat your pants if you’re not careful.”

The food helped, because it gave them something to focus on that wasn’t solely one another. There was enough to feed ten people. Maybe just six, she later revised, as Kara went back for thirds. She found herself telling stories she hadn’t thought about in years, things from when she was nineteen years old and not smart enough to know how far in over her head she’d gotten.

Later, stuffed and relaxing on the couch, Kara’s hair dried in finger-combed waves and Alex kicked her boots off and curled her legs underneath her. They drifted together somehow, in unnoticeable increments, until they were close enough to speak in whispers. The last time Alex had seen a clock it’d read 3:30 AM, and it could have been minutes before or it could have been hours. She’d powered straight through exhaustion, but her body was beginning to betray her. It was growing increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open and sometimes her words didn’t come out right.

“I’m so sleepy,” Kara confessed, “but I don’t want you to leave.”

She ended up tucked into Kara’s big bed with early morning light shining through the crack in the drawn curtains. Kara loomed over her for a minute, eyes luminous in the room’s half-light, before leaning down to give her a long, slow kiss that left her as weak as a kitten.

“Maybe you could do a few more shows,” she heard Kara say as she drifted off to sleep. “You know, go on the road with us for a little while.”

\------

She was jolted out of sleep by a crash and the banging of a fist against the suite’s front door.

“Rise and shine, Sunshine,” came a voice that undeniably belonged to Jimmy Olsen and was far too energetic for what had to still be early morning.

“Oh, no. Not now.” Kara was out of the bed like a shot, straightening her shirt and looking around the room in a panic, jolted straight from deep sleep and into immediate action. “Stay here, okay? I’ll get them to leave.”

Alex watched groggily as Kara bolted into the main area of the suite, firmly closing the bedroom door behind her. She sat up, rubbed at bleary eyes, and blinked the time on the bedside clock into focus. It read 11:00, which was more than a bit of a shock.

“Guys,” she heard from the other side of the door, and it was affectionate and exasperated and Alex couldn’t help her smile at the thought of Kara trying to shove her band back out through her hotel room door, “can we do this later?”

It was hard to tell who was who when everyone started talking at once.

“We want details.”

“Did you chicken out?”

“I bet she chickened out.”

“We learned three whole new songs so you could get yourself on the same stage with this girl, Kara. Don’t tell me it was all for nothing.”

“I cannot take even one more day of you pining. Not one single day.”

“If you tell me you did not take this chance… Kara Zorel, I swear to god.”

Then, “Whose boots are those?”

Silence.

A vaguely scandalized screech. “Is she _here_?”

“If I open that door, am I going to see Alex Danvers in your bed?”

There was a thump against the door and Kara’s voice, higher than usual and not at all convincing, close by the other side of it. “No. Nope. Nuh-uh. That’s… why would you even say that? And even if it was true, it wouldn’t really be polite to open someone’s door, would it? Not when it’s closed, like it so obviously is. Not when people could be sleeping because they were up late talking, and they got really tired so they just stayed over.”

“You _didn’t_.”

Kara, exasperated. “ _Guys!_ ”

“I think I’m actually impressed.”

“Alex Danvers—” said a strident voice, Megan’s if she was correct— “if you mess this up…”

There was another thump against the door, and whatever threat had been in the offing was quite thoroughly muffled.

“Can we talk about this later?” Kara asked, sounding a little breathless. “ _Please?_ ”

Several minutes later, the door opened again. Kara stepped into the room, red-faced and unable to meet Alex’s eyes for more than a second. “That was… I’m really sorry about that.”

“So if I was to travel with you to your next stop,” Alex said, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant, “is that the kind of reception I should expect from the rest of the band?”

Kara froze. “You’re going to come with us?”

“Well, I met this girl, and she’s nicer to me than I deserve. She’s a good person – the kind who can forgive horrible mistakes that other people probably wouldn’t. She’s beautiful, and I like it when she kisses me, and I haven’t met anyone I can talk to like I can talk to her. Not for a long time.” Alex gave an embarrassed shrug. “I think she’s worth a change of plans, even if I’m a little nervous that she won’t like me as much once she really gets to know me.”

She landed flat on her back with an _oof_ as Kara launched herself onto the bed and onto her. “You’re stronger than you look,” she said, trying to catch her breath as Kara hugged her tightly.

“I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

Alex had a suspicion that when it came to Kara Zorel, saying yes would only become easier.

\------

 _Alex Danvers joining tour with Kara Zorel and Crew_ , read the trending headline.

“Read it,” Kara said around a half-devoured piece of toast.

Alex rolled her eyes but took the proffered tablet and began to read aloud.

_After a string of guest appearances on the North American leg of the band’s scheduled route, Alex Danvers has officially joined Kara Zorel and Crew on tour. No word yet on what that will entail, but insiders hint that we may be seeing the beginnings of an upcoming collaborative effort. Troubles between the two camps appear to be firmly in the rear view mirror, as Danvers has been seen traveling with the band for over a month. Concert footage from fans shows Danvers joining the band on stage for a portion of their set. Rumor has it that the first team-up between them earlier this year at the Ryman Auditorium was recorded and will be released as special bonus footage on the band’s website at the conclusion of the tour._

_Sources say Zorel and Danvers have grown close over the course of their travels together. Those who remember the harsh things Alex Danvers had to say about country music’s Sunshine Girl may be shocked by this fast friendship, but others close to the tour assure us that it is, in fact, legit. Representation was close lipped when asked for comment. “They’re big fans of one another,” said Danvers’ manager. Zorel’s camp was equally noncommittal. “We’re glad to have her on the team.”_

_Check back with us for updates on this unexpected friendship, and join us in looking forward to what this collaboration might bring._

She put down the tablet only to find herself with a lapful of Kara.

“Hi, friend,” Kara said, running her hand through Alex’s hair. She leaned in and kissed her, the kind of slowly deepening kiss that Alex had grown addicted to – the kind that always left her unsteady and a little off-balance afterward, but in the best kind of way.

“Hi, friend,” she echoed, when Kara finally pulled away.

“Do you maybe want to go collaborate on something?”

Alex wondered how early was too early to be in love. “With you? Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> I [tumbl](http://outlyingoutlier.tumblr.com/)


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